


phantom grief, steel hearts

by abucketofchicken



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Pacific Rim Fusion, Angst, Character Death, Denial, Grief/Mourning, Implied/Referenced Character Death, M/M, Movie: Pacific Rim (2013), Pre-Movie: Pacific Rim (2013), Unreliable Narrator
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-28
Updated: 2021-02-28
Packaged: 2021-03-12 13:54:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,884
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29760645
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/abucketofchicken/pseuds/abucketofchicken
Summary: The world is at war, giant mechanic robots fighting monsters appearing from the ocean, laying death and destruction on its path. Being a jaeger pilot, death, defeat and sacrificed lives are just second nature. But as Kuroo Tetsurou, jaeger pilot in recovery with a comatose co-pilot, meets an enigmatic Tsukishima Kei, newly stationed pilot recuperating from a harrowing defeat, both learn that the thing that grief and tragedy love more than etching pointless pain are fellow mourning souls.
Relationships: Kuroo Tetsurou/Tsukishima Kei
Comments: 2
Kudos: 16





	phantom grief, steel hearts

**Author's Note:**

> should i actually be continuing my other fics? yes. am i shameless? yes. do i regret this? no.  
> here you go, something that i come up with with a best friend of 17 years in under 90 minutes brainstorming session; a monster fic that shouldn't be this long. so yeah i know i should be finishing other things, but i cant just not write this when i feel like this is the first thing ive written with my drift compatible best friend for the last 10 years or so. this fic, is of course, my gift to my forever co-pilot. oh, and hello haikyuu fandom, hope you'll treat me well.
> 
> this fic should be read with its accompaniment, an [iwaoi pacrim](https://archiveofourown.org/works/29755743) that compliments each other.

KUROO TETSUROU

It’s just like any other night. Kuroo stays by Kenma’s bedside for hours until he loses track of time. Apart from the occasional beep of the machine, it’s basically Kuroo who does all the talking, filling in for all the things that Kenma has missed for the last month. Bokuto has been drilling Wing Chun practice at the Kwoon these last few days, for example, all because of his newfound obsession over Ip Man after a certain film marathon on the weekend with Akaashi, who in turn (along with Kuroo and the other cadets), totally slammed him for the huge difference between the spiked hair Fightmaster and the legendary martial artist he longs to be. Meanwhile, just last Friday, Yaku finally fulfilled his end of the bargain by treating the whole crew to noodles after losing a wager with Tora, who bet for Kageyama and Hinata duo's victory in under one hour. Even though Kuroo couldn't be there, the thought of Yaku's dwindling wealth is enough to make him smile.

Fifty-eight minutes. First drop, first kill, against a Category-III off the coast of Okinawa. Kenma would probably smile to hear his newest best friend having such a successful first drop. Fifty-eight minutes, from deployment until Okinawa’s shore was painted blue with the Kaiju’s blood. It’s a new record for the Tokyo Shatterdome, though it still hasn’t come close to Iwaizumi and Oikawa’s legendary victory against the Category-II in under forty-seven minutes right in front of the freaking Tokyo Bay. The whole city got both of them to thank for their lives, Oikawa’s smug face was plastered all over the television for the next three months. He’s basically a celebrity, with all that good-look and charming smile, even a certain Hollywood actress (big eyes, red hair, and name that Kuroo totally forgets) and saw him as an ideal type. Enter the oddball duo of Kageyama and Hinata with their new Mark-IV, Echo Saber, and they might probably snatch Oikawa's crown soon.

“But I guess we’re not so bad either, don’t you think, Kenma?” Kuroo says with the same grin plastered on his face. 

Usually, Kenma would just make a low grunt, notifying his approval or disapproval in ways that only Kuroo could comprehend. Back in the days, Kenma will have his eyes fixed on the console in his hand, tongue clicking whenever he encountered a difficult boss, giving comments about whatever it was that Kuroo talked about only when he disagreed and pausing only when the matter was dire (whether the matter is dire or not often lies entirely on Kuroo's incessant nagging at the pudding-head to actually listen to him). But of course, this is not 'usually' nor 'back in the days'. These days, it's not even a shrug or a low grunt that Kuroo gets as a response. In fact, he doesn't even receive any response, the closest thing to it is the really faint rise of Kenma's chest as air enters his lungs and the constant, machined beep of his heartbeat.

It's passed the one-month mark since Kenma has been in a coma, one month ever since they landed that last blow on that Category-III ten miles off of Sendai, one month after Kenma flashed him one weak smile and collapsed right inside the Conn-Pod. Kuroo survived the ordeal with a few cracked ribs and a broken left hand. Physically, those are the only things that are robbed from him, the inconveniences he has to endure are simply the few days he was bedridden and the now itchy and uncomfortable cast around his left arm. Many would say that he's lucky to survive the ordeal with just that, but Kuroo himself feels like he has lost something more than just a few broken bones. 

“We were on the television again yesterday, or more precisely you were. The mayor of Sendai personally sent you his gratitude. They even interviewed this one little girl, said that you are her hero. Who knows whether in a few years she would enter the Jaeger Academy to be just like you,” Kuroo continues. “They didn’t talk much about me, of course. Everyone is buzzing about you.” 

Sometimes Kuroo wonders whether the fastening beep of Kenma’s heartbeat is his way of answering to Kuroo, though more often than not, Kuroo realizes that it was just his own imagination. The beep is always constant, the rigid lifeline on the monitor never changing its rhythm. No matter what Kuroo says, it always remains the same, much like Kenma’s own placid reaction to his every antic back in the days. 

“She wishes for your recovery. Everyone is waiting for you to wake up.” 

Kuroo’s smiles turn into something more melancholic in that sentence. Aside from the IV needles and tubes going out of Kenma’s body, you won’t really notice that he’s doing anything more than just sleeping. The bruises have faded, the stitches are taken out, and all that is left to do is wait. Everyone is waiting for Kenma to wake up.

_ I am waiting for you to wake up.  _

That last train of thought turns his mouth sour, right before that spot between his right rib cage starts to ache. Kuroo sighs. It’s probably his cue to leave. Longer than this and he would most likely just wallow in self-pity. He takes a last glance at the peacefully sleeping Kenma, throwing a small smirk there. When Kuroo thinks loud enough in his head, he manages to convince himself that Kenma is just sleeping. Not dying, just sleeping. 

“I’ll see you again tomorrow, Kenma.” 

The answer he receives is always the same; a deafening silence broken only by the beeping of Kenma’s heartbeat. 

. 

Kuroo was 19 when the first Kaiju attack happened. A 2780 ton beast destroying the Golden Gate bridge was a scene for a Sunday morning mecha-anime, not the news. As much as one would hope this to be a Hollywood movie, this one however was very much real, blasted throughout all TV channels for the next six days until the beast was slain, its blue blood splattered all over the American terrain. Kuroo remembered how the whole world was shaken, though for him it oddly still felt like a dream. Even as more of those beasts appeared in Manila, Mexico, and Sydney, Kuroo just went through his university days with ease. It also helped how Kenma, with whom he had been best friends since they were toddlers, had always seemed to have a world of his own. Maybe for Kenma, the Kaiju wasn't as different as the final boss he had to face in his own game, and Kuroo was more than willing to indulge himself in the same fantasy. 

It wasn't until the Onibaba attack at Tokyo did Kuroo realize that this whole war wasn't just happening in a far-away land beyond reach that he had told himself it did. When it happened, Kuroo and Kenma were both in Sendai for a university volleyball match. Who would have known that playing volleyball would save his life? Half of Tokyo was destroyed, including his own neighborhood. Still, Kuroo and Kenma were the lucky ones, since their families were quick to get to the shelter, they both got away with only losing their home. 

A switch was flipped in his brain that day and it was the first time Kuroo decided to join the Academy. Just like thousands of other cadets, he was bewitched with the scene of Stacker Pentecost single-handedly saving Tokyo with the Coyote Tango. A naive part of him thought he could one day be that as well, though the other solely thought about preventing another tragedy that befell Tokyo. If he was surprised that he found himself standing in line with hundred other cadets in Anchorage just a few months later, he was more than shocked to have Kenma standing beside him, actually taking his words to heart.

"I mean you're really smart, Kenma. And you've fought these beasts on games already, so you already have an experience that others don't," was what Kuroo did say to Kenma back then.

"It doesn't count. It's a game, it's not real," Kenma said in his usual lazy tone. They were playing Fifa then, Kenma keeping his winning streak as usual, sometimes Kuroo questioned himself why he still even bothered to play against Kenma when the outcome is always the same. 

"But isn't the principle the same? You try to find a pattern in the enemy's movement, analyze its weakness, and strike during an opening."

Kenma scored a goal right then, earning a wince from Kuroo. Instead of resuming directly with the kickoff, Kenma took a pause, eyes gazing at something that seemed to be further than just the TV screen in front of them. 

"Yeah, I guess you're right, Kuro," Kenma said. 

Most wouldn't think that Kenma is pilot-material, but in Kuroo's perspective, that's exactly what makes him perfect. The physical aspect and his combat skill seem to be the only thing lacking, he almost didn't make the first cut. But then again, even being a black belt in taekwondo or a jujitsu master wouldn't secure you a spot in the Conn-Pod, since all would be worthless if you couldn't find the perfect partner to Drift with. That's the reason why geniuses like Bokuto and Yaku end up in Kwoon or J-tech, and those who cling on to the hope of being a pilot has to wait for that one in a hundred thousands chance of meeting someone you are Drift compatible with, as the case of Kageyama and Hinata. Honestly, Kuroo didn't encourage Kenma to be a pilot in the hope that they are Drift compatible. Dragging Kenma to do anything that basically Kuroo likes is just second nature to him. He did it with volleyball, he sure as hell would do it with being a pilot and fighting off evil monsters. 

And in a twisted turn of events, Kuroo realized that by doing so, he had also dragged Kenma to the end of the world with him. 

.

If being in the Conn-Pod and fighting off Kaiju is the end of the world, then the Tokyo Shatterdome is its gate of hell. Housing the legendary Coyote Tango, Tokyo Shatterdome is one of the forefronts of humanity's defense. Being a Tokyo local himself, Kuroo feels both pride and relief for being stationed there, protecting his very own hometown. 

Tokyo Shatterdome is never truly empty. Everyone always works around the clock, such tiring work hour is just the bare prerequisite out of every soul living in the Shatterdome. That doesn’t mean it’s impossible to find abandoned spots in the middle of this huge rig. The bigger the place, the easier it is to find a certain spot anyone can hole up in. Almost everyone has their spot. Kuroo and Kenma found their solace in one of the abandoned hangars. Built to house around five Jaegers, it never actually manages to operate in full function. One hangar, particularly at the end of the east wing, is always empty. 

The hangar is huge and mostly left in peace, except during certain events like an impromptu volleyball match during summer when the people from their sister Shatterdome in Nagasaki came for a visit. Who knew that Iwaizumi and Oikawa are as much as a beast on the court as they are in the Jaeger. Kuroo and Kenma weren't that bad either, the highlight of the match was this one-minute long rally that got every spectator "ooh-ing" and "aah-ing" every ten seconds. 

When the place was left abandoned during normal days, Kuroo and Kenma would hang on the higher level of the hangar, right where a Jaeger is supposed to be stationed, sitting near the very edge with feet dangling in the air. In front of them would be the open view of Tokyo Bay, with its ocean breeze and the distinct smell of the sea. At day the ocean and the sky melt together in a tinge of comforting blue before replaced by twinkling lights atop the dark background at night.

Kenma could care less about where they hang out as long as he has his console in hand. Kuroo, on the other hand, longs for something more liberating. One of the few shitty things about being a Jaeger pilot is their sleeping quarters. Sure, you’re seen as a national celebrity (in the case of Oikawa, it’s international and Kuroo wouldn’t be surprised if it becomes extraterrestrial either) but at the end of the day, you’re still a ranger whose bedroom is a mere 17-meter square box of metal that you even have to share with another soul. 

Kuroo shared his room with Kenma, of course, and ever since the incident, he isn’t too keen on getting back to that stifling place. He told himself that it’s more the claustrophobia (which he doesn’t have) and less the fact that the room is too empty. Funny. He just complained about having to share a room with someone, but the moment he got the place all to himself, he shuddered. 

Long story short, it’s pretty much the reason why Kuroo isn’t really rushing to go back, despite the ungodly hour. It’s not like he has anything else to do. Even when the alarm rang, he wouldn’t be the one rushing towards his Jaeger with a drivesuit, huge smirk and boiling blood. That would be the moronic Kageyama Hinata duo now. 

So Kuroo ends up walking around aimlessly through the Shatterdome. His mind isn’t going to any specific destination, but his feet have beat him to it, unconsciously bringing him nearer to the east wing. Before long he finds himself in the corridor just past the abandoned simulator room that nobody else used ever since Coyote Tango was put out of commission. It’s there when he realizes the usually shut door being left just a tad bit ajar with the familiar bluish glow seeping through the crack. 

Three a.m. in the morning and some restless soul decides to do a quick simulation practice. Even normally people wouldn't touch this part of the Shatterdome, there are more accessible simulation rooms closer to where the hustle and bustle take place. The snooping Kuroo thought that it might as well be Kageyama and Hinata, them or some other new pilots-to-be that are just as incessant as them when it comes to training. Either way, as an exemplary senpai and a generally nice person willing to give advice at any given moment to troubled souls, Kuroo decides that he’s more than welcome to crash on their training. He walks in with a smirk, expecting to see a catastrophic attempt from newbies in their secret late-night Drift practice, or the Kageyama Hinata duo mentally kicking each other in the butt because god forbid, they hadn’t had enough chances for that outside of the Drift. 

His smirk turns into furrowed brows upon entering the simulation room, all because of various reasons. One, it’s neither the Kageyama Hinata duo nor any new pilot candidates (which Kuroo prides in knowing for being a good senpai) and two, whoever it is, the person is alone. The latter is the one most confusing to Kuroo since you wouldn’t really come across someone during a simulation alone so often, and particularly not in this time of the day. Is it to get a hang of the Drift? 

But something tells Kuroo it isn’t just any newbie. Being a pilot, he knows that stance and the atmosphere when someone isn’t used to a Drift, and this person is doing it with ease. Not that Kuroo can see anything past his suited figure either. Whoever it is he’s just standing there in the suit, connected to the Drift without moving any muscle. Through the helmet he can see the stranger’s face, one that grows more familiar the more he looks and digs into his own memory. It’s a face he’d definitely come across before, especially since there aren't many pilots or pilots-to-be that wear glasses. Kuroo finds the glasses somehow endearing. You know how stifling the helmet can be and this stranger decides to add in the discomfort with glasses. Neat. 

Whoever it is, his blond hair and lack of rigid line on his face told Kuroo that he’s still young, younger than him, at least. His closed eyes and unwavering expression make it seem as if he’s asleep. 

Asleep, just like Kenma is. 

. 

"Say, Yaku, do you know what happens if you Drift alone?" Kuroo asks. 

"Drifting alone? I don't think anything will happen. I mean, you Drift to connect to your co-pilot. If you don't have a co-pilot and not in a Jaeger, then why would anyone go into the Drift?" Yaku answers. 

Kuroo was staying at Kenma's room just like any other day when the door swung open and Yaku walked in. Tacit Ronin's very dependable lead J-tech that has been working together with Kuroo and Kenma since their first drop is a familiar figure that goes way back. Being in the same year as Kuroo, they attended the Academy together until Kuroo went on to become a pilot with Kenma and Yaku joined J-tech after the second cut. Usually he would be in the hangar, giving orders to the others and keeping a careful eye over the clumsy Lev who kept pressing the wrong buttons to release Tacit for the drop (one time Lev even managed to almost kill him by connecting the wrong tubes to Kuroo’s drivesuit, blocking his oxygen flow), though today he had to leave the others for a meeting with the Marshall and decided to give Kenma a quick visit on his way back. Meeting Yaku sure put a smile on Kuroo's face, even as much as the past rivalry has brought the two to a standstill numerous times before. 

"That's exactly my question," Kuroo says, conversing with Yaku who's sitting next to him. 

Next to them, Kenma's heart beats steadily and Kuroo imagines Kenma is listening to the conversation, just as much as he did back then even when his own eyes were fixed on a game. As unseemingly as it may seem, Kenma did listen to others tentatively, and Kuroo likes to think that Kenma is still doing just that now. 

"Other than doing it just for the sake of trying, I can't really tell why someone would Drift alone. It seems like a waste of time," Kuroo adds.

"Well, you're the pilot, Kuroo. You can answer this question better than me."

"Oh come on, you were a really extraordinary pilot candidate as well in the Academy," Kuroo whines. He remembers how Yaku shined during sparring. Even in theory class, Yaku brushed everything off with ease, he can sketch the whole dozen vent lines of a jaeger and recite its thirty seven output points. Kuroo wholeheartedly believes that Yaku has all it takes to be a magnificent pilot if only he met someone he's Drift compatible with. That's the bane of being a pilot, waiting for your other half to drop down from the sky, or else kicking Kaiju in the butt and becoming the hero of the day would forever be a fantasy. 

"But I'm happy with being in J-tech," Yaku says. 

" _ Lead _ J-tech," Kuroo adds, not wanting to discredit Yaku for all the good things he had done for Tacit Ronin.

"And I wouldn't have been able to work on Tacit Ronin and team up with you and Kenma otherwise," he says, turning his head towards the bed where Kenma lies at the end of his sentence. "How are you doing though, Kuroo?" Yaku continues, changing the subject. 

Kuroo curves his eyebrow a bit at that question before shrugging. "I look just as fine and dazzling as always, don't you think?" he answers with a smirk.

Yaku purses his lips, seemingly going to disagree with what he just said. Then again, it's Yaku, and most of the time, he always finds a way to remonstrate everything that Kuroo says. 

"I honestly think you can do with more sleep," Yaku says, his voice a bit low but the point just as straight and loud.

Kuroo clicks his tongue before snickering, expressing his protest and annoyance in his typical playful manner. 

"'Cos it looks like you're carrying rocks in that eyebags of yours," Yaku continues. Kuroo instinctively reached for that spot underneath his eyes, pressing the skin with the edge of his fingers. Kuroo feels like Yaku is exaggerating. The reflection looking back at him as he brushes his teeth looks just as fine. 

"I'm fine, I'm fine," Kuroo says, waving his cast-free hand. "I did sleep, and eat, and exercise with Bokuto as much as this broken hand will let me. If I can have it my way, I would love to have this cast off of me as soon as possible," he adds, motioning towards his left hand. 

"Well, you're still in recovery so don't overexert yourself."

"There isn't much I can do with a broken hand anyway. I'm itching to get back on sparring and kicking Bokuto's ass in Kwoon," he responds. "How's the other doing by the way?" This time it's Kuroo's turn to ask and honestly, he's keener to divert the conversation away from himself. 

"Same old, same old. We're busy repairing and doing maintenance, restoring Tacit Ronin back to its former glory. The Jaeger had gone through several critical points in its running year but we'll get it up and about in no time."

"You hear that, Kenma?" Kuroo says, turning his head towards Kenma. "All that's left is for you to properly recover and we'll be back kicking Kaijus' butt," he adds with an unwavering smile. 

Next to him, Yaku smiles along to his words, though with an underlying hint of sadness that Kuroo can't help but notice. "Hey, it's all right," Kuroo says with the same smile and confidence. "Kenma will wake up for sure."

There's a mix of expressions on Yaku's face. One of embarrassment, as he realizes how Kuroo reads him through and through, and the second an even more bitter sadness masked underneath a smile that speaks more of pity. But before Kuroo could even react with the slightest change of expression, Yaku has already changed his, turning his face away towards the sleeping Kenma, adding a, "Yes, the others are waiting for you to come back."

Yaku leaves not long after that, saying how he can't leave Tora and Lev without supervision for too long or else the whole right wing of the Shatterdome would surely explode. Kuroo keeps on his smile until the last moment Yaku closes the door behind him before it finally falters into a deep sigh.

Kuroo hates it, the look that Yaku gave him. It's a look that he's seen countless times already ever since the incident, an expression on people's faces he's grown to know too well. To see that it's Yaku, of all people, who looked at him in such a way breaks his heart. Pity is the last thing that Kuroo Tetsurou needs. 

.

The next time Kuroo sees the four-eyes again, almost a week has passed. He would have missed the four-eyes and their second encounter wouldn't have happened at all if it wasn't for that recurring nightmare. That particular night, Kuroo wakes up with a jolt and heaving breaths. There it was again replaying behind his eyelids, the scene of crumbling buildings, the Kaiju's shriek and Kenma on his right, doing all he can to still stand on his feet amidst the blood trickling down his suit. Kuroo bites his lips, hands reaching towards his aching ribcage. His body feels like it's on fire, sweats running down his naked back, drenching his own bedsheets. Kuroo doubles down, hands still clutching the right side of his body, clawing at the skin.

He can  _ feel _ it, the piece of metal piercing right through his abdomen. 

_ I'm fine _ , he whispers to himself, trying to take deep, long breaths. He opens his eyes, trying to catch his surroundings, bringing himself back to the reality he's in. He's not in the Conn-Pod, he thought to himself. It's his mantra to get through the recurring nightmare, reminding himself of where he actually is and to push the memory aside. 

He's not in the Jaeger. He's not in his suit. He's in his bedroom, alone. The bedroom he used to share with Kenma. 

Kuroo turns his head to his right where Kenma's empty bed lies before snickering to himself and sighed. The mantra works, the pain quickly receding into a dull throb. It's ironic, Kuroo thought, that the reality he's pulled back into doesn't feel as relieving as the nightmare he just had. 

To turn his head right and see Kenma there in the suit, or to turn right and not see him at all, both feel just as awful.

A quick glance at the clock tells him that it’s almost dawn, which means he only had around 2 hours of sleep. Kuroo knows he’s not going to be able to sleep again and it’s not like he’s keen on trying again. If it wasn’t for the broken arm, he would opt to spend his time training in Kwoon, swirling a bo or just having himself beat the hell out of the training dummies. 

That’s basically how he finds himself walking aimlessly through the early hour of the Shatterdome again, something that Kuroo slowly realizes has been a habit now. And arriving back at his and Kenma’s spot, seems to have turned into a habit as well, because just like the last time, he ends up walking down the familiar hallway, leading him to the abandoned hangar. Kuroo starts to think that maybe everything is a deja vu, that or he’s secretly been in a simulation all along, reliving a memory he’s experienced before, because as he nears the same simulator room on the hallway, he can see the same blue light seeping out through the half-opened door. 

The image of the four-eyes, standing alone in the room with closed eyes, hooked on the Drift, flashes through Kuroo’s mind. Sure enough, as he peeks in the room the same scenery awaits him, a baffling enigma that still has Kuroo twisting his eyebrows in curiosity. It is then when the blue light suddenly dims, signaling the end of the simulation. Talk about timing, Kuroo thought whilst smirking, because this will probably grant him a chance to interact with the four-eyes directly. 

Kuroo stands there, watching with a careful eye, as the whole simulation whirrs to a halt, the blue light growing fainter with each passing second. He remembers the sensation well, that pull back into reality after a Drift. Entering a Drift feels like a jolt, like being shoved into a bathtub full of ice. Leaving one feels like waking up from a dream, like a slow rise from the bottom of the ocean to the scene of flickering blue light awaiting on top. He can see the stranger’s eyelids flickering underneath his glasses, eyelashes quivering as reality starts to seep in. 

The fact that the four-eyes was Drifting alone has baffled Kuroo, and what happens afterward doesn’t make the whole thing easier to comprehend. Because just as his eyes flutter open, Kuroo certainly doesn’t miss the single tear running down his eyes, and the painful, sad look that even twists Kuroo’s heart in an odd way. The four-eyes doesn’t realize his existence at first, eyes gazing still to the nothingness in front of him, as if replaying still whatever it is he just saw in the Drift once again in his head with such a mournful look. But when he does raise his head and realizes Kuroo’s unwelcomed existence, every remnant of pain and sorrow is quick to be replaced by annoyance and hostility. 

Kuroo doesn’t need to be a genius to realize that he’s not welcomed, or that he just basically walked in on something private the four-eyes definitely doesn’t want anyone to witness. 

"Sorry to keep you waiting," the four-eyes is the first who speaks, his tone flat and cold after he takes off his helmet. "You're free to use the room." He probably thinks Kuroo is here for simulation practice. 

Blonde hair, long fringe, glasses, and such a hostile look on his face. He's certainly not a newbie. 

"I'm not here for a simulation practice," Kuroo nonchalantly comments, as the stranger walks off the platform and towards the door, seemingly very keen to leave the room as soon as possible and has Kuroo out of his sight. "After all, it won't do me as good without a partner to Drift with."

The stranger stops at his track at Kuroo's comment. At this point, he has his back on Kuroo already, but upon hearing Kuroo's words he turns his heels, flashing him a really polite smile. It's a stark contrast to his outright hostility from earlier that the irony is clear even to the daftest. 

“That means you just haven’t really understood what Drifting actually is.” 

He said it in a tone that is both friendly yet condescending at the same time. And now it's Kuroo whose feet get frozen on the ground, staring at the stranger's polite smile and enigmatic words, both unsettling him. 

“What do you mean?” Kuroo asks, his tone not hostile in the slightest. He realizes most people would be angry, or rather he should be feeling likewise, since the four-eyes is definitely insulting him with his comment. “It wouldn’t do me any good Drifting alone,” he adds. 

There is a slight pause, with the stranger eyeing him, as if judging Kuroo with his gaze, before he answers calmly. “Would it?” And before Kuroo can even reply, he excuses himself and exits the room, leaving him with a rhetorical question hanging in the air, one that just baffles Kuroo even more.

.

  
  


“Say, do you know this guy; tall, blond, glasses. Most likely a pilot or going to be one,” Kuroo says in the cafeteria during lunch. The place is brimming with people around this hour, sitting together to eat or to even just lounge around. It’s the few chances during the day when everyone, from the K-Lab people holed up behind their stacks of documents to the oil-smudged J-Tech crew, get around to talk about something else less depressing than giant lizards destroying humanity over a simple meal. Sometimes Kuroo feels a bit melancholic, because this part of kicking Kaiju's ass and saving the day doesn't seem to be any different than a regular college life; sitting together around a designated table with your peers, gossiping about who has a crush on who and who catches whose attention. 

In this case, it's Kuroo's attention that is caught by the enigmatic four-eyes, and he's quick to share the news with the LOCCENT mission control's genius Akaashi Keiji and Kwoon's Fightmaster Bokuto Koutarou. In this huge concrete fortress amongst the thousands of other souls more suited to be called fellow colleagues, the pair in front of him is the closest thing he has to a best friend (especially now, when his ultimate one is rendered unconscious in a deep coma). 

“Most likely a pilot?” Akaashi chimes in, quoting Kuroo.

“I just had a very interesting encounter the other night,” Kuroo says. 

“Oh, did you find a new friend, Kuroo?” Bokuto asks rather enthusiastically. Well, Bokuto is enthusiastic in almost everything he does, even if Kuroo came with the news of their lunch menu that day (it’s beef curry) he would treat it as if he just won the lottery. "Wait, why didn't you mention it to me at Kwoon this morning?!" His broken arm has stopped him from joining in the actual sparring, but Kuroo quite likes hanging around the place, watching recruits practice, giving them tips and insights (that some of them admit is actually more helpful than Bokuto's occasional oral explanation of 'gwah' and 'hurgh' that none but Hinata can seem to comprehend). 

"Because I’m actually asking Akaashi now,” Kuroo answers with his trademark smirk. “Besides, even though you're a Fightmaster, I doubt you remember people as good as you think you do.”

Kuroo’s reply gets Bokuto pursing his lips. 

"It must be Tsukishima," Akaashi says. Kuroo almost misses that comment in the midst of Bokuto's ramble. 

"Who?"

"Tsukishima Kei, from Nagasaki Shatterdome. He's the pilot of Sierra Yue."

"Wait, that's the one who got totaled on Okinawa, right?"

"Yes. Kageyama and Hinata's first dispatch was to actually aid them," Akaashi replies. Somehow Kuroo realizes only now how he has been out of touch with this news he should have known. Seems like he's been too preoccupied with Kenma.

"Did they survive?"

"Well,  _ Tsukishima _ did," Akaashi says placidly with just the correct amount of intonation for Kuroo to understand the things he didn't say.

Kuroo doesn't need any extra explanation. Category-III. It must have been a bloodbath.

"What's he doing in Tokyo then? Did he get reassigned to a new Jaeger?" Bokuto asks. 

"I don't really know. We have some new people coming from Nagasaki, but then again it's never new," Akaashi answers. Exchanging staff between Tokyo and Nagasaki has been a regular thing, as both shatterdome work as a pair, just like every pilots do. 

“Talking about Nagasaki, when are they coming for another volleyball match again? I can’t wait to go against Ushijima and show him who’s the superior spiker,” Bokuto replies, flexing his arm as if ready to go for a match just right there and then. 

Afterward the conversation seems to have faded into the background for Kuroo, whose eyes are wide with realization and heart beating just a little bit faster. Why would someone ever want to Drift alone? What could one even hope to gain from that? And there’s Tsukishima Kei, who just lost his fellow co-pilot, Drifting alone in an ungodly hour of the night. Something starts to click in Kuroo’s head, an epiphany slowly creeping in his brain, unveiling an answer he’s both reluctant and unsettled to understand. 

_ It wouldn’t do me any good Drifting alone,  _ Kuroo has said, has believed. 

_ Would it? _

The moment he realizes what Tsukishima has been doing all this time in the simulation, and the meaning of his baffling words, a smile has crept upon his face, one that is ironic and unsettling enough that Akaashi scrunches his eyebrows and Bokuto innocently asks whether he’s been reenacting the moment he’s going to block Sakusa’s spike on the volleyball match too much in his own head. 

“No, no, it’s not that. Contrary to you, I have other, more important things to think about,” Kuroo answers, waving his hand at Bokuto. 

The Fightmaster purses his lips, protesting how the match is indeed important and how he’s so looking forward to wiping the court and the smile off of either Oikawa or Miya’s face this time. Kuroo just nods along afterward, listening to the rest of Bokuto’s rant, though he has to admit that only half of what his best friend is talking about actually gets through to his own head, preoccupied still with the ironic realization of a certain Tsukishima Kei, that just might happen to be doing the saddest thing imaginable. 

**Author's Note:**

> this fic should be read with its accompaniment, an [iwaoi pacrim](https://archiveofourown.org/works/29755743) that compliments each other.
> 
> this is going to be a long fic
> 
> twitter is @chickenofbucket


End file.
